Not Everyone
by Grinning Purple Cheshire Cat
Summary: -takes place after COS- Ginny muses to herself about the past events of the Chamber and deals with her guilty emotions of being used by Voldemort


AN: Yo! I wrote this fic because I was just wondering how Ginny had to have felt at the end of COS. I mean, finding out she had been used like that by Lord Voldemort...guilt is a pretty powerful emotion which I hope I portrayed well here. All I have to say is that this is my first Harry Potter fic ever, so please R/R Thanks a bunch. And also, all words between the *asterics* are italicized, as for some reason, none of my HTML files will upload correctly.  
  
*  
  
"*Ginny*!" My mother squealed, leaping up from her place in front of the fireplace in Professor McGonagall's office and throwing her arms around me in a suffocating bear hug, my father close behind her. They squeezed me till my face was blue, then Mum turned and pounced on Harry, wailing, "You saved her! You saved my precious Virginia! Oh, how on *earth* did you do it?"  
  
Everyone else insisted he explain, so Mum and Dad led me back to the chairs by the warming fire as Harry began his long and eventful tale of my rescue, though thank God he seemed to have recieved my mental pleas and didn't mention a word that all this time it had actually been me who had killed all Hagrid's roosters and used their blood to write the terrible messages on the wall, who had opened the chamber and set the basilisk on the other students...I let out a huge sigh of relief as Harry ended his story with the glorious slaying of the giant serpent and looked expectantly at the Headmaster Dumbledore. Thank you, Harry, for not telling them about me or that accursed diary! If anyone else ever found out it was me, I would be expelled for sure!  
  
Dumbledore smiled slightly. "But what *I'm* most interested in is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania."  
  
My blood ran cold. He knew! I was screwed!  
  
"En-enchanted?" My father stammered. "Ginny? By You-Know-Who? But...but...she didn't...she hasn't been...?"  
  
"It was because of this diary," Harry quickly jumped to my defense, picking up the tattered remains of the book, the long, shattered piece of the basilisk fang still impaled in the center, and showing it to the wise old headmaster. "Riddle wrote in it when he was sixteen." He handed it to Dumbledore, who looked it over admiringly.  
  
"Brilliant. Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen." He turned and faced my bemused parents. "Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once named Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after he graduated...traveled far and wide...sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizible. Hardly anyone connected him with the clever, handsom student who was once Head Boy here."  
  
"But, Ginny," my mother interrupted. "What has this got to do with Ginny?"  
  
I could no longer hold back the white hot tears that stung visciously at my eyes. My bottom lip trembling, I shook my head disgustedly, countless tears now streaming down my cheeks. "It was his d-diary!" I sobbed. "I've been writing in it, and he's been w-writing back all year..."  
  
I felt my mum stiffen behind me and winced as her painfully loud, high pitched voice filled the room. "GINNY!" she yelled. "Haven't your father and I taught you ANYTHING?! What have I always told you? Time and time again? NEVER trust anything that can think for itself IF YOU CAN'T SEE WHERE IT KEEPS ITS BRAIN! Honestly, I don't know WHERE your head was!" The disappointment her voice oozed with succeeded in sending a fresh wave of nausiating guilt over my weary body. "Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your father?! A suspicious object like that, it was CLEARLY full of Dark Magic-"  
  
"I'm sorry! I didn't know!" I cried out lamely, feeling I would truely die if I heard anymore of her scolding. "I...I found it inside one of the books you got me at Flourish and Blotts. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it..."  
  
Mum took another deep breath and opened her mouth, obviously about to start another long speal of remremands, but Professor Dumbledore spoke first.  
  
"Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away. This has been a terrible ordeal for her. No punishment should be needed. Older and wiser wizards that she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort." He strode to the door and opened it. "Bed rest and perhaps a large steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up." He caught my eye and gave me the tiniest wink. I grinned back in gratitude, my spirits rising considerably. No punishment! I wasn't going to be expelled!" "You will find that Madfam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out the Mandrake juice - I daresay the basilisk's victims will be waking up at any moment."  
  
Relief flooded my entire body as my brother exclaimed, "So Hermione's gonna be ok!"  
  
"There has been no lasting harm done," Dumbledore confirmed. He motioned us towards the direction of the hospital wing and my mother and father ushered me out into the hallway.  
  
We walked along in silence for a while, but as soon as we turned the corner and Professor McGonagall's classroom disappeared out of sight, they started their slating all over again. "Really, Virginia!" Mum shook her head. "What *were* you thinking?! Writing back and forth to a stranger's persona in some ancient fifty year old diary...see how dangerous even the most harmless looking things can be in the magical world? Do you realize what could have *happened*? What you could have *done*?"  
  
"Yes, Mum," I muttered.  
  
But she completely ignored me and continued. "You could have *died*, Ginny! You could have suffered the same fate of that poor Myrtle girl who was killed by the Chamber beast fifty years ago! Minerva tells me her ghost still resides in the bathroom stall where she had been murdered. Honestly, Ginny, would you have liked to spend the rest of eternity haunting a *toilet*?!"  
  
Under any other circumstances I would have found her preaching humerous and amusing, but I was quickly tiring of hearing her rattle on and on and was getting fairly annoyed. "I *know*, Mum," I moaned exasperatedly as Dad pulled open the door to the infirmary and we walked inside.  
  
The nurse, Madam Pomfrey, a medium sized woman with light brown hair and honey coloured eyes, glanced up from spoon feeding a thick, cloudy, deep red liquid to a rather groggy Colin Creevy and inclined her head in acknowledgement to our arrival.  
  
"Um...Dumbledore sent us down to give my daughter, Ginny, some rest..." my dad started to explain, but Madam Pomfrey suddenly inhaled sharply, set the spoon and bowl down on the bedside table, and lept to her feet, her hands tightly gripping the fabric of her rose coloured skirt.  
  
"Oh! Oh, Ginny! Ginny Weasley! You're alive! But...the chamber? The beast? How did you...?"  
  
"Well, it's a long story I'm sure Ginny doesn't feel like explaining right now," Mum answered for me.  
  
"Oh, yes, of course," she nodded. "Forgive me, I quite lost my head." She hustled over to an unoccupied bed and pulled back the covers. "You just make yourself comfortable while I get you a nice big mug of hot chocolate."  
  
I slipped out of my Mary Janes and did as she instructed, graciously accepting the blue mug and watching her return to administering the Mandrake juice to the four petrified students. Justin was nearly fully awake, Colin only just, but the two girls, Hermione and my older brother Percy's girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater, were still frozen.  
  
My mother noticed me staring and decided i hadn't learned my lesson yet, as if I didn't feel bad enough that four of my classmates had been petrified and nearly killed because of me. "*See*? *See* what happened thanks to your lack of judgement? Of good sense? You could have been the cause of death to a student, to a *friend*, *to one of your own brothers*! What would you have done if you had someone's life on your concience?" I said nothing, only sipped at my hot chocolate, as my parents rose to their feet from kneeling at my bedside. "Please don't misunderstand us, dear," her voice changing from shrill and harsh to soft and low. "Your father and I love you very much and we are thankful, so thankful, that you were lucky enough to have made it out of this alive..." She gazed fondly, almost sadly, down at me and I shifted uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact. "It's just that...I don't know what we would have done if...if we had lost you..." Her voice trailed off and Dad turned her around and began ushering her towards the exit.  
  
"G'night, Love," he said over his shoulder to me as they left. "You just lay back and relax and try to forget this whole ordeal ever happend."  
  
Ha.  
  
Like that was possible.  
  
There was a small click as the door closed behind them, then all was silent, save for the sound of Madam Pomfrey bustling about, whispering to Justin Finch-Fletchly to try to get some sleep, telling Colin the same, and trying to get the stiff-as-a-board Ravenclaw Prefect to swallow the Mandrake potion.  
  
Finishing the hot chocolate, I set the mug down on the nightstand, flopping back, closing my eyes, and feigning sleep as I brooded over what my parents had said. Thank God nobody had suffered any lasting damage...but what if they had? *Would* I have been able to live with myself if I knew someone had died because of my mistake?  
  
*No! Stop it, Ginny*, I commanded myself. *Stop fretting the 'what if's.' It was a horrible thing that happened, but nobody had been hurt. Stop tormenting yourself wondering what you would have done if they had been.*  
  
But I couldn't stop.  
  
No matter what I did, I just couldn't make myself stop. Guilt was all I could think about, all my mind could comprehend. I could have *killed* someone! Because of my stupidity, I could have given Moaning Myrtle a playmate, someone to share her stall with! God, I was such an idiot! Why oh why had I opened myself up to that stupid diary anyway?!  
  
Thought I already knew the answer.  
  
Because I was so...alone.  
  
I had been so lonely that I had to look to the fifty year old memory of some strange boy to fill the gap nothing else could.  
  
*Like a little friend I can carry around with me in my pocket.*  
  
I had been so desparate for a firend that Tom's now obvious intent had succeeded in blinding me, tricking me into trusting him.  
  
Because none of my peers would give me the time of day, I needed the companionship of some enchanted inanimate object. How stupid was I?!  
  
All because I had been completely rejected by my entire student body, ridiculed and picked on since the train ride to the castle...granted my brother Ron lets me hang out with him and his mates, but...I have a feeling they don't really *like* me, they just *tolerate* me. Maybe Mum has been bribing my siblings to be super nice to me, trying to make my first year at Hogwarts survivable, I wasn't sure.  
  
But I did know that I didn't have any friends.  
  
Or suitors, for that matter.  
  
My whole life my insides have been visciously and bruitally eroded by jelousy and resentment every time I looked at one of my brothers or their friends. They all seem to have found their significant others, and all seem to be genuinely...happy.  
  
My second eldest brother, Charlie, has been engaged to his fioncée, Emily, for several months now. The twins, Fred and George, both found love on the quidditch field; they're dating their two fellow team mates, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell. Even Percy, whome I thought nobody liked or ever could even has a girlfriend now. I walked in on them snogging in the empty transfiguration classroom the other day. I had only gone in there in hopes to retrieve my *Banishing Banshees* book which I had left there that morning, but when I opened the door I found Percy lying on top of one of the long tables in the front row. The blonde Penelope Clearwater, fifth year Ravenclaw prefect, was sitting on his lower stomach, her hands groping around underneath his shirt, their lips locked in a passionate kiss. Of course as soon as they noticed me staring, they quickly jumped away from eachother. They seemed really flustered. I guess they were afraid I'd spill to other people about what I had seen, afraid they would lose points for their houses or gain detentions, afraid they would be stripped of their prefect positions, afraid that people would make fun of them...  
  
Well, it was pretty stupid to worry about that.  
  
Who was I going to tell?  
  
Never the less, he made me swear not to tell anyone, said that if I kept his secret, he would someday keep a sealed lip about my first relationship. I agreed, though really it was irrelivant. If I ever did get a boyfriend, I'd want everyone to know it. I'd run up and down the hallways screaming at the top of my lungs, rejoicing that I had finally found that special someone, someone who actually liked me and wanted to be with me...*If* that ever happened.  
  
I had absolutely no popularity in my year. All the snobby, pretty girls who have every guy clamering over them take pleasure in ridiculing me, laughing at my second hand school supplies, claiming I would never get a boyfriend, calling me wicked names like "Welfare Weasley" or "Virgin Virginia" (Virgin not so much because I am one, but because I'll *always* be one) They were all so mean and bitchy...yet...they all have guys. It just wasn't fair.  
  
Though I don't know if it was made up or not, there has been a rumor floating around that a Ravenclaw first year, Michael Corner, had said I was cute...  
  
But even if that is true, which I highly doubt, it does't mean much to me because I don't like Michael Corner. I detest blonde hair and blue eyes really aren't my fetish.  
  
No, I already fancy someone much better looking. Someone with black hair and green eyes. Someone whome I know I have absolutely no chance with what so ever.  
  
I had fallen head over heels for Harry Potter.  
  
Of course ever other girl has a crush on "the *famous Harry Potter*..." But I knew most, if not all, of them are shallow and superficial. They only like him because he's world reknown, because he defeated the dark Lord when he was just a baby, because he defeated him a second time last year, because he was daring and rebel enough to come to school in a flying car instead of the train...  
  
But liking him simply because of those things was so wrong.  
  
Yes, *I* was the only one who *really* liked Harry Potter. Liked him for his inner traits, like his loyalty and selflessness, liked him for the way he always wished he wasn't famous, that he could just lead a normal, quiet life like all the other teenagers, liked the way his messy dark hair stuck out in all directions...  
  
Not that any of my sincerity really matters.  
  
Because I'll never win Harry over.  
  
He fancies someone else.  
  
I know it.  
  
I've seen the way he stares calf-eyed at that Asian Ravenclaw chaser, Cho Chang. She was fairly pretty, I admit, with her Oriental slanted almond- shaped dark brown eyes and her long waist length jet black hair, perfectly straight, smooth, and silky, with not so much as a strand out of place as it cascades lazilly down the back of her lean athelete's body...  
  
How can I compete with that?  
  
No, I would never get Harry to notice me. To him I was just another Weasley. Just the little sister of his best friend. Nothing of any importance.  
  
Nothing special.  
  
That's why I had so willingly written back and forth to Tom without giving it a second thought. I had hoped that even if it was only his memory, he would at least treat me like no one else ever has. Like an individual. Not just another red headed child, not just a tiny part of a whole, but an actual individual person with her own feelings, thoughts, ideas, and ambitions...  
  
I was just so tired of being overshadowed by my siblings. They had all been so...successful. Bill had been Head Boy, Charlie had been captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team, Percy's now a prefect, Fred and George are excellent quidditch players an get really high marks, Ron just recieved a Special Service to the School award...  
  
What was left?  
  
What else could I possibly do that would be of any signifigance? No matter what i could try, it wouldn't be as important or impressive because one of my brothers has already done it. It would just be "Oh, little Ginny's following in the footsteps of Whoever" or "Wow, little Ginny's doing great in Whatever? Soon she'll be doing blah blah blah, just like What's-his- name!"  
  
Little Ginny, little Ginny, little Ginny!  
  
I was so tired of being "Little Ginny!" So what if I'm the youngest of seven kids? That doesn't mean I'll be a baby forever! I wish they would stop treating me like one! Sure the whole thing with Tom Riddle's diary and the Chamber of Secrets went horribly, horribly wrong. If anything, that would really make them trust my credibility and responsibility even less. But really it was their fault. It was because of them that I had to turn to Tom, because of their insessant fussing over me, acting like I can't take care of myself, like I can't run my own life.  
  
I can.  
  
If they would just let me. They make me go to bed way before Ron, and he's only a year older than me. They always talk down to me like I won't understand them if they use big words. And they won't talk to me about anything going on in the wizarding world, especially news involving You- Know-Who, because they say i'm too young and I shouldn't worry myself about it.  
  
I was sick of it.  
  
And then there was the whole boyfriend thing. Though I haven't yet, if I ever did come home one day and say, "Hey, guess what? I just got a boyfriend," I knew what their response would be. Everyone would just laugh and say, "Oh, how cute, little Ginny has a crush on someone." And then they would just pat my head and tell me, "Don't worry, Ginny. Someday you'll be old enough to start having a real attraction to the opposite...well, to boys."  
  
Honestly, they won't even say "opposite sex" because they think I'll laugh or think of it the wrong way or something! I'm not that immature! And "someday someday someday!" How much longer would I have to wait?! How much longer before they realize I'm not a little girl anymore, I'm a young woman and they need to start treating me as such?! I'm twelve! I don't want to wait any longer! I'm ready for a boyfriend now!  
  
But not just any boyfriend.  
  
No, I'm ready for *Harry Potter* now.  
  
If only the basilisk had attacked Cho Chang...  
  
No! What was I doing? Wishing ill will on a classmate, for an unatainable person, none the less. No, I would never win dear Harry's heart and I needed to get over him. Maybe I *should* consider Michael Corner...  
  
Sigh. life sucks. Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like had the Chamber beast killed me, if Harry had not come and so valliantly saved me. There have been times when I would have welcomed death with open arms; looked forward to it as the only escape from this miserable and meaningless existance here on earth...  
  
Everyone says that growing up is hard to do, especially during your adolecent years. "Everyone bleeds the same way as you do, we all go through the same period of feeling rejected, alone, misunderstood, etc."  
  
Well, that's *not* true.  
  
*Not* everyone knows what I'm going through. *Not* everyone is a growing witch or wizard. *Not* everyone has hiddeously bright orange hair, tattered, hand-me-down robes, and used, beat up, second hand books, a prime target for bullies. *Not* everyone has six older brothers that don't exactly try to make life any easier. And *not* everyone's said six older brothers have been completely successful in everything they've done, leaving absolutely no goals left for you to accomplish, nothing new that you can do to make your mum and dad proud of you.  
  
And *not* everyone has nearly killed someone, several someones for that matter, because of their stupid, reckless mistake.  
  
I was more glad than anyone else that nobody had been killed, really! I just don't know *how* I could have been so *oblivious* to that dumb diary! You-Know-Who had found out my weakness and cunningly used it against me, giving me a friend when I so badly needed one. My parents had every right not to trust me again. If I had been so easilly blinded by the Dark Lord's so obtrusively obvious trick, how much longer till I fall for another one? How much longer till He thinks up a second trap and insnares me in it once again?  
  
Only a few professors, Harry, Hermione, and my family know it was me who had caused this whole mess, not only petrifying four classmates, but also a ghost and the caretaker's cat! They all promised me they would no longer speak about it. No one else would find out it had been me, no one else would look at me differently, think of me differently...though some times I wonder if that's really such a good idea.  
  
Maybe people *should* know. Maybe people *should* think of me differently, be suspicious of me, be wary of my easilly decieved mind...  
  
Indeed, maybe they just shouldn't trust me anymore.  
  
None of them should. For their own safety.  
  
I even find it difficult to trust myself now.  
  
*  
  
AN: How was that? Please R/R. And also, a few lines from the beginning of this fic have been taken directly from the book, so I don't take credit for those. Just thought I'd add that in since I didn't have a Disclaimer at the top. Thanks a bunch for reading this, and reviewing this too, if thus so desires :P 


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